Page 51 of Gideon's Gratitude

I held his gaze. “I’ll take more of whatever you’re offering. I enjoy your companionship. You’re easy to get along with.”

You turn me on in ways I’m not willing to examine too closely.

A curt nod. “Okay. I’ll put some ribs in the slow cooker before we go.”

“Splendid.”

Lunch passed with amiable conversation that skittered over light topics and avoided delving too deep. As we rose to do the dishes, Gideon placed a hand on my arm.

“I have another favor to ask.”

“Whatever it is, I agree.”

A soft smile. “You need to be careful with promises like that.”

“True.” A fondness settled in me. “But something tells me you won’t ask for more than I’m able to give.”

“An hour on your netbook.”

Ah.

“Of course.”

“It’s just… I bought a new camera so the kids can see me, but my monitor’s really old, and I can barely see them. I’ll bet your netbook has some impressive picture quality.”

“It does. We can hook up your camera, and you’ll have a better view of the kids.” I’d picked the thing up at London Drugs this morning, and it was top of the line for what I needed. I just hadn’t wanted to go back to Vancouver to get my work laptop. Hell, I could scrub my personal stuff and leave the damn thing for Gideon. I’d just needed something to tide me over until I went back to my life.

“And, could you, that is, would you mind sitting near me?”

“If it means that much to you, of course I will.” His request surprised me. To invite a virtual stranger to attend such a private moment had to mean something. I just wasn’t sure what.

He squeezed my arm before releasing it. Then he rubbed his brow.

“Look, you cooked, I’ll clean. Why don’t you lie down for a bit? You said you’re seeing the kids at three, right? We can get everything set up at two-thirty so you’ll be ready.”

Said brow furrowed. “I’m okay.”

“No one said you weren’t. But you seem a little sluggish, and I know you want to be at your best for the kids.”

He put down the dishes. “You’re right. Thank you.” He offered a small smile, then walked out of the room. Moments later, his heavy tread carried up the squeaky stairs. For a lighter man, he walked as if carrying the weight of the world.

Cleaning up took little time, and soon I found myself back at my computer.

Staring at the blinking cursor.

I hadn’t actually opened my email program, instead choosing to scroll through news sites, design sites, as well as sites about creatinga warm and inviting home. Something Gideon said had stuck. How would I deal with my family? Theywouldcome. Eventually one of them would discover the address, and they’d all descend upon me. A day ago, that thought annoyed.

Today? After seeing how isolated and miserable Gideon was? Not so much.

What if I built a secondary structure on the property? A cabin with a couple of bedrooms. Something that blended into the landscape so as not to disrupt, but that had enough space to handle at least one family at a time. And I’d do well to create a schedule. Dedicate at least one weekend a month to hosting.

Does that mean you plan to stay in Mission City more often?This was intended to be a weekend retreat. I faced some daunting challenges. The commute into Vancouver would be tricky. Driving was a pain in the ass and not environmentally friendly. The commuter train was the logical option, but that meant being on the road home by six. Often my days stretched beyond that.

Do they need to?

I’d always felt that yes, they did. Now I wondered.

What if I take fewer cases? What if I focus more on my health?

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